My Dad has been on my mind alot lately. I mean, he's always on my mind just out of my actual concious, but I have been actively thinking of him the last few days. Maybe it's the Key West trip that we're planning, or the fact that I put an "In Loving Memory" decal on my car's back window that I see every time I look in the rear view mirror. Regardless, he's wandering around.
I was always daddy's little girl and much to my brothers' chagrin, I knew it. When he died I had spent a lifetime with that identity and suddenly I didn't know who I was. Turns out I'm still daddy's little girl, even though he's gone. Growing up he was pretty easy on me, and I worked very hard to make him proud. Mom was easier...she was proud of me for just being. Dad thrilled in accomplishments. It was his nature. I wonder if my brothers resented that A's school came so easily for me. If they got a little satisfaction when Dad didn't come to my high school graduation (a thing I knew he regretted almost as soon as he did it). I wouldn't have blamed them. I never meant to shadow over them, I just wanted to please. I spent most of my childhood seeking out my dad's approval and he readily gave it. I expected alot of myself because he did and for better or for worse in many ways we were very alike.
I had a great childhood, a happy one even if in the midst of it I didn't know it. I hated the moving then, but now I wouldn't trade those memories. I especially loved New Orleans and the house on Nyetimber in Coraopolis is the one in my head when I think of what our perfect house would be.
I enjoyed my parents' company and never recall going through a stage like so many of my friends where my parents were uncool or that I hated their very existence. I was lucky. My parents WERE cool, and fun, and I hads plenty of extended family that were as well. There weren't many people whose company I preferred, and that holds true even now.
*I remember the BI bag. When we lived in Punta Gorda we would pack stuff in that bag-it was black nylon and in yellow letters had BIBIBI on it. Joe and I played house in the gigantic banyan behind the house in Punta Gorda and mom let us go hang out at the green shelter with a bunch of old war vets who sat around smoking and playing cards. (my kids will not round the corner...a perfect testament to how things have changed). I also remember horseshoe crab spawning season when they would hit the beach by the tons. And I recall a clever note Mark put on his bedroom door that forbid Joe and I enterance under penalty of hanging by our nose hairs.
*I fondly remember going to Station Square in Pittsburgh with mom and dad and having fried ice cream at the Mexican place there. Patrik and I ate there on our honeymoon. And nothing before or since has ever compared to the fireworks at the point on the 4th of July.
*Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and Fantasy fest in Key West. These things brought out the best in dad, who always knew how to have fun. He was a natural host as well, and sincerely loved when family came to visit. It absolutely put him in his element.
*Dad was so worried about having our wedding reception at the La Concha. He was afraid that something would go wrong, that he wouldn't enjoy himself because it was his workplace. But I am pretty sure it was as close to perfect as it could get and I had a ball at my own wedding. Patrik did too, what he can remember of it (he said he was so nervous standing in front of the church he sweat through his tux before I even walked dwon the aisle). Not me, not this time. I had a blast and loved that so many of my family could be there...it was indeed the last great time dad would be able to host.
I miss dad. All the time, and some moments the sorrow of his loss hits harder than others. He absolutely unconditionally loved his grandsons. And so many years after Chris was born he was so very pleased to be getting a granddaughter. I remember sitting on the back porch of the house in Key West and having him tentively place his hand on my big belly, the look on his face when Laura gave him a swift kick. He was robbed of all the things he would have loved in watching a granddaughter grow ("I can't wait to bounce her on my knee," he had said.). And my girls have been completely cheated of a grandfather, a "Pops", who wanted to fly kites and give ice cream and explore the world with them. He not being here to get to know these lovely daugheters of mine, and they missing out on all he had to offer, is my absolute greatest regret in losing him so soon. I had him for 31 years. The girls never had him at all. I keep him alive in my home as much as I can, with picutes and old home movies and mentioning him often. Truly often. Julia swears she knew him but he was gone long before she was born. Still, that she feels like she knows him makes me glad.
Not as glad as if he were here.
Except he is, sort of. In my heart, always. He is a part of our history.
And our present, too.
I was always daddy's little girl and much to my brothers' chagrin, I knew it. When he died I had spent a lifetime with that identity and suddenly I didn't know who I was. Turns out I'm still daddy's little girl, even though he's gone. Growing up he was pretty easy on me, and I worked very hard to make him proud. Mom was easier...she was proud of me for just being. Dad thrilled in accomplishments. It was his nature. I wonder if my brothers resented that A's school came so easily for me. If they got a little satisfaction when Dad didn't come to my high school graduation (a thing I knew he regretted almost as soon as he did it). I wouldn't have blamed them. I never meant to shadow over them, I just wanted to please. I spent most of my childhood seeking out my dad's approval and he readily gave it. I expected alot of myself because he did and for better or for worse in many ways we were very alike.
I had a great childhood, a happy one even if in the midst of it I didn't know it. I hated the moving then, but now I wouldn't trade those memories. I especially loved New Orleans and the house on Nyetimber in Coraopolis is the one in my head when I think of what our perfect house would be.
I enjoyed my parents' company and never recall going through a stage like so many of my friends where my parents were uncool or that I hated their very existence. I was lucky. My parents WERE cool, and fun, and I hads plenty of extended family that were as well. There weren't many people whose company I preferred, and that holds true even now.
*I remember the BI bag. When we lived in Punta Gorda we would pack stuff in that bag-it was black nylon and in yellow letters had BIBIBI on it. Joe and I played house in the gigantic banyan behind the house in Punta Gorda and mom let us go hang out at the green shelter with a bunch of old war vets who sat around smoking and playing cards. (my kids will not round the corner...a perfect testament to how things have changed). I also remember horseshoe crab spawning season when they would hit the beach by the tons. And I recall a clever note Mark put on his bedroom door that forbid Joe and I enterance under penalty of hanging by our nose hairs.
*I fondly remember going to Station Square in Pittsburgh with mom and dad and having fried ice cream at the Mexican place there. Patrik and I ate there on our honeymoon. And nothing before or since has ever compared to the fireworks at the point on the 4th of July.
*Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and Fantasy fest in Key West. These things brought out the best in dad, who always knew how to have fun. He was a natural host as well, and sincerely loved when family came to visit. It absolutely put him in his element.
*Dad was so worried about having our wedding reception at the La Concha. He was afraid that something would go wrong, that he wouldn't enjoy himself because it was his workplace. But I am pretty sure it was as close to perfect as it could get and I had a ball at my own wedding. Patrik did too, what he can remember of it (he said he was so nervous standing in front of the church he sweat through his tux before I even walked dwon the aisle). Not me, not this time. I had a blast and loved that so many of my family could be there...it was indeed the last great time dad would be able to host.
I miss dad. All the time, and some moments the sorrow of his loss hits harder than others. He absolutely unconditionally loved his grandsons. And so many years after Chris was born he was so very pleased to be getting a granddaughter. I remember sitting on the back porch of the house in Key West and having him tentively place his hand on my big belly, the look on his face when Laura gave him a swift kick. He was robbed of all the things he would have loved in watching a granddaughter grow ("I can't wait to bounce her on my knee," he had said.). And my girls have been completely cheated of a grandfather, a "Pops", who wanted to fly kites and give ice cream and explore the world with them. He not being here to get to know these lovely daugheters of mine, and they missing out on all he had to offer, is my absolute greatest regret in losing him so soon. I had him for 31 years. The girls never had him at all. I keep him alive in my home as much as I can, with picutes and old home movies and mentioning him often. Truly often. Julia swears she knew him but he was gone long before she was born. Still, that she feels like she knows him makes me glad.
Not as glad as if he were here.
Except he is, sort of. In my heart, always. He is a part of our history.
And our present, too.
4 comments:
I love you.
Mom
I know....
I love you, too.
Wow! They sure do make it hard to comment!!
Your Dad was almost perfect. I only say "almost" because There may be something I didn't know about him. I douibt that, because he was such an easy man to know and love. I know he was the perfect host. He seemed to know everything about every place he ever lived, and really loved showing them to his visitors. I often wonder if the Grosse Point (SP) thing had worked out, if he'd never got the big C. But Key West, agfter all, was his favorite place and he made it mine. I'll never forget the "bat tower"! We all miss your Dad, and wish he were still around to enhance the lives of your little girls as well as the lives of all of us.
Uncle Tom
He did the bat tower thing to everyone....I agree, Key West suited both he and mom. It would have been grand for them to retire there...Love you, Tom. So did Dad.
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